


Rose from Homestuck Gets Laid with Her Girlfriend, Who Also Gets Laid

by obstreperose



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Mild Blood, Oral Sex, Scent Kink, Sweat, Tentabulges, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 04:05:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5613325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obstreperose/pseuds/obstreperose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Rose, who is from Homestuck, gets laid and scores hard with her girlfriend, who also gets laid, and who's also from Homestuck, and who is Kanaya.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rose from Homestuck Gets Laid with Her Girlfriend, Who Also Gets Laid

She relaxed on her palms, calves lifting against the silk of the sheets (purple: distant descendant of some long-lost velvet pillow), and hitched her robes up further around her hips.

Rose was full there, stocky, short, weight concentrated in her thighs and soft flat rear, and her lover dipped mouth, touched lips, and the tiniest graze of fangs, as she came in closer - inch by inch. Moment by moment. Breath by breath, the pitch of her heart-rate reaching a little higher by the second.

Daringly, her hand eased down and fixed upon one horn, and Kanaya’s jade-flecked pupils looked up at her, the sclera of them yellow, bright and very alien.

“I’m sorry, am I barred from this area?” Her intonation was beautifully flat, her voice deep and sweet. The presagement of a smile would play, in just a second, over her wide, soft lips.

A soft breath out. Really she’d just wanted to look at her. Jet black hair, cut in a neat crop that was stylish by troll standards and shaggy by Rose’s own, but no less the alluring for it. “No. It’s perfectly allowed.”

“We could go back to kissing if you’d prefer.”

“I wouldn’t.” Rose’s own voice had all the peaks and valleys that Kanaya’s didn’t, as sardonic but the sardonism coming through in lifting tilts of her lips, the gaspy little tighten of her throat. Kanaya’s lips fell against her thigh: she felt the warm intake of her breath there, her lover breathing her in. She was suddenly conscious of every tiny warmth and private piece of her body, the way she smelled, softly of heat, and how Kanaya didn’t mind.

Tongue, broad and canny, lapping over her thigh. Then the soft imprint of fangs: she gasped, shivering tightly, as Kanaya took blood. A euphoric, heated light-headedness rushed over Rose’s body: she sunk her hands in the bedsheets, and twisted to one side, one thigh splaying away from the press of her vampiric lover’s mouth, the other turning in towards it, her heel bucking in the bedsheets as her leg trembled animalistically with the jolting desire to be taken and loved. Between her thighs the mound of her sex: plush-lipped, her inner labia hot with a rising wetness that seemed to stir up between her and beg to be touched. By the time Kanaya’s fangs rose up - that cleverly gentle tongue licking closed the wound - Rose’s hand was jolting with bent knuckles, digging in against her sex, and low hungry groans were coming from her previously comported lips.

Rolling her arms up past her shoulders, Kanaya eased out of her own clothing, her bare, narrow breasts with their smooth grey skin, darker nipples tinged with under-hints of a lovely jade. She leaned in against Rose’s self-action, aquiline nose flaring just very slightly as she took the thick musk of her matesprit’s nook (alien analogical concept, it was very different from that - really), and her lips parted, and the tip of her tongue eased at the edge of where Rose’s fingers just barely weren’t, slick and soft and teasing, and Rose made a restless noise in her throat and made room.

Kanaya dived against her in thick, savagely lusty sallies, her tongue first narrowing to a tip, touching against and dragging up from the very nadir of Rose’s glistening, long-lipped sex, broadening slightly with supple art as it reached the centre of her entering pinkness, returning to a tip once more as it eased river-like past the tiny bead of her clit - and then pulling back and falling forward all broadness, all long deep licks, and her mouth closing too, wet, fulsome kisses that were backed with throaty sounds of need against her matesprit’s inviting nook (instinct - difficult to think of it as anything else), and which left her drooling with Kanaya’s saliva and her own intermingling juices.

Kanaya leaning back in, hungry for more, her tongue probing in now, its tip at first narrow and then as it found enclosure broad, flicking up and out in an easing motion that made Rose’s inner labia part and spread and exposed her to every sensation she could count. She felt her tongue flatten against the roof of her mouth and whimpered with soft intensity. They hadn’t done this many times. Slow had been the course, a protracting arc. It was now reaching its apex, she thought in a dreamy anticipating way, with the few words her head could coherently arrange at this want-wracked point.

Kanaya’s hands up, running over her: her own reached down and superceded them, intermingling, touching their fingertips, her matesprit’s fingers long, capped with hard, horny nails that were much more predatory than those of a human, but here - Kanaya was so careful with them - carefully blunted as they grazed the skin, overheated and lightly dappled with sweat, that the lifting up of her Seer’s robes revealed. Bare breasts: Kanaya arched over her, rising to her bony knees, and let her tense-stained mouth fall against them, kissing at the nipples, urging them up to aspiring, coffee-hued points. That turning tongue made its sensory mark there even as Kanaya’s hips matched to Rose’s, and they ground together, not in union yet but in the heart-beating, mutually aroused prelude to it that could have almost found its climax just in the touching, her bare downy-haired thighs to her lover’s half-way up skirt, and feeling each press in senseless heat towards the other.

Kanaya’s bulge: a subtle viridian green, dark and alive with the curl and protean tense of her body, its tip flicking just into sight, and Rose with words she could not have told you urged her to unbutton her skirt, and she did, casting it aside with a heavy, raised-shoulders pant, and then - tense, sinewy thighs bare - her alien lover’s sex roiled and rose between them with unspeakably arousing intent.

“You’re more than a little worked up,” she said, and was surprised to find how cool and amused her voice sounded, when she hadn’t meant it to, found herself a little embarrassed by it. Kanaya afforded her a straining smile. Rose understood that the mating instinct in trolls operated very differently. It was rarer - but more urgent. One’s very life, after all, could be said to depend on it. Thankfully that was not a concern in this situation, nor, she guessed, ever would be. Still remained the fact that Kanaya’s biological drives were a powerful, shocking, and mainly very _exciting_ type of thing.

The xenomorphic sex that lifted between those soft elegant thighs, jade green and visibly dripping with musky, slick-hot fluid, was prehensile and not quite entirely under Kanaya’s conscious control. When it came near to Rose - Kanaya leaning against her now - it flexed on its own insatiable reaction against her skin, seeking the warmth of her inner thigh, and Kanaya tensed and seemed to concentrate and then the fat, wide ventral side of her, slick and heavy and hot, was roiling in slow serpentine ruts against her matesprit’s vulva.

“Nnh.” All canny speech was vanished here. Her sunken cheeks were flushed a bosky green, subtle painterly strokes under the grey. Rose tensed up against the stimulation, lifting from the small of her back, feeling like the very presence of Kanaya’s bulge against her was enough of an impetus to pull her into the sky, levitate her if need be. The tip, lightly curved in a way reminiscent of the tips of her horns, slid punctuating against her clit, slathering her with that warm-wet fluid. It felt infinitely slick. Trollish nooks were much smaller than what nature had equipped Rose with: bulges, by turn, needed to produce strong lubricant, and they did so in buckets. So to speak.

Kanaya was huge: it felt this way every time, to have her flexing against her, the mating-dance prelude to the union of bodies and the star-touch orgasm that inevitably followed, left Rose panting and screaming, sometimes, as her limber lover panted against her in mewling mating desire, eyes starry with bliss. Kanaya’s hand eased aside one thigh, widening her access: she encouraged, tensing in the abdomen, her bulge to ease back, and at the curling flex of its tip, marked that tip between the valley of Rose’s lips, and pushed with her hips.

She furled in like they were part of a matched set minted in a very unusual manufactory. That was just the tip: and, like a tongue, it could flex and shallow in its size, leave Rose gasping with the intensity of its thickness inside her one second and panting with soft relief the next. Hot fluid dripped from her lips, staining the silken sheets. Inch by inch, Kanaya’s sex piled deeper, bending into itself and then, as it found hot, lubricant-slick purchase, straightening out in sudden eddies, tensing back again, and Rose’s fingers clutching up the sweat-damp sheets, and suddenly Kanaya’s mouth falling over hers, the taller girl’s body arching over hers like a bookend, and her mouth hot, and her lips sweet and soft, and an alto to the deep vibrating tenor of her bulge pushing into her, every inch, every inch.

Kanaya’s hands met hers where they clamped in the sheets and wrapped them around her fingers, her palms, instead. They met there hot and palm to palm: push up from the elbows matched buck back from the hips. Kanaya’s hips, in turn, began to work: firmly, recurringly, driving in concert with the motion of her bulge now, all seven or eight inches of it beyond the base worked in and that thick, torpid swell itself the broadest part to take and tensing out, with its close press, the clutching plushness of her labia.

“You can do it,” she whispered against Rose’s mouth, and was met back with a whimper, and Rose’s normally pertinacious lips urging up for another hungry kiss, her teeth sinking sharply against the jadeblood’s lip, for just a second, everything possible in the heat of their embrace. Slowly, moment by moment, the root of Kanaya’s sex pulsed in: and then Rose was around her, embracing her, every moment warmth and wetness and tense and her own hot-slick juices drooling from the tiny aperture at her tip to coat her entire bulge, their entire union, in a thick pheromonal musk that would last for hours and make the rest of the rut a sailing pleasure-cruise.

“I know this,” came Rose’s voice, strained and loving, her eyes lidding against the intensity of the sensation, being filled so deeply, spread - but then tensing back in deep internal complexities against the foreign-lovely heat inside her, and each tense a micronic orgasm, subluminary, not quite the kiss of climax, but ever so much like, and, “from experience,” she finished, twisting her head to the side in a shuddering storm of intensity. Kanaya let her mouth, her breath, dapple her cheek. Barely any need to move the hips now: the prehensility of her bulge, its flexing back-forth rut, was nearly all internal, and she contracted from the chest down in a tight shudder as she felt her body mostly moving on instinct, her sex knowing how to rut and curl to work up to orgasm by itself, and each redoubling of its weight against itself a dirty stolen pleasure in addition to the sheer hot bliss of being inside Rose.

“Oh,” she panted - “oh,” and then it was here, the close intensity of climax, and she was kissing and heaving in breath at Rose’s neck, the smooth dark skin there, licking at her throat, as her rear shook and body tensed in unfolding climax. Thick jolts of fertile seed rolled loose inside her, pulse after pulse, not spilling out around Kanaya’s base - too tightly rooted was she - but welling up hotly inside her partner, so that Rose could nearly feel them if just from the heat and the wetness and the weight, like no human orgasm to speak of, not that she was ripe with experience. Kanaya could go on like that for more than a minute, and somewhere in the middle of that, her hands at once interlocking with Kanaya’s palm and pawing at her own plump breast, she found the final jolting bucks of her own long-built climax, too, and flexed and tensed in upwards near-possessed bodily contractions against Kanaya’s forward-leaning body, and reached up her mouth, kissed the troll’s shallow breasts just beneath their caps, mouth drooling, mouth panting.

They came to an accord of peace some minutes after, both sultry with sweat, one leaning against the other, though neither could have told you which. Rose rolled to her side, and panted - the slippering weight of Kanaya’s bulge was out of her, now, against her thigh, and viridian fluid soaked the sheets through to the mattress, hot and with its sharp, warming, distinctly sexual smell.

“I feel sort of obliged to say sorry,” said Kanaya, with her flat, calm affect, though her rich deep voice - and Rose, who had learned to read her moods - intimated and could intimate that it was a soft joke. She curled her thighs up against Rose’s rear as they both soaked in the cooling fluids of her climax.

“Oh, nonsense.” Rose’s voice, human, was more straightforwardly fond. “If nothing else, I’m sure it gives me an excuse to replace the sheets.”

“Purple again this time or do you expect it’ll be violet or lilac.” The way she said it, the question was all implied, even-toned, just the words coming out one after another. It had a comforting cadence. Rose could feel Kanaya’s lips smiling against her hair.

“I’m trying to banter. I really am.” She lifted her shoulders up against the safe security of Kanaya’s clavicle, her broad shallow chest. A soft demi-yawn nascent in her mouth. “But I’m afraid I’m simply just too comfortable.”

Kanaya laughed softly. Rose felt her fingers play, like the safekeeper of a great secret, above the flat warmth of her waist. Then, long-limbed, she pulled the covers up.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this very smutty story! If you did, you can find more of my writing at obstreperose.tumblr.com. I take requests of all kinds, and would love to hear all your no doubt wonderful prompts!


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